


Expendable

by TheNarcolepticOne



Series: DailyUSUK [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 15:25:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14571927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNarcolepticOne/pseuds/TheNarcolepticOne
Summary: “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.”And what have you left behind, Alfred?”“Pointless stuff, you know? Like love.” - 1 Corinthians 13:11





	Expendable

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to condense this to a reasonable wordcount but I think I should go back to at least 700 words because I’m not too good at minimally worded stories. Euagh.

Arthur exhaled, feeling the bumps of the tram continuing to shake him enough to feel queasy. He had nothing to steady himself; the armrest was too loose to hold onto and his converse shoes never held enough friction to help from sliding. The only alternative Arthur had to balance was to force a hand grab in the middle of the gap between him and Alfred, who was sitting right next to him. Arthur turned to try and see if he could meet Alfred’s gaze. He’s instead met with an eyebrow raise, but Alfred thankfully doesn’t move to let go.  
The subway tracks screeching became his white noise while they waited, with the wind of the whizzing vehicle filling Arthur’s ears. He tried to keep his attention inside of the subway, eyes too easily dizzy to look outside. But Alfred doesn’t have this problem.  
He had no issue staring blankly at the window, flashes of the underground lights refracting from his glasses. He had large Beats that concealed his ears, blocking all the noise that could ever interfere with his song. Arthur knew he was trying to ignore something.  
He squeezed the hand harder. No response.  
And yet Arthur felt the need to continue that meaningless gesture, maybe about two more times without reaction. But it’s the something that kept him grounded. Something to make himself feel reassured. A touch. It was enough for Arthur, but perhaps only just that.  
He sighed. He stared at a sleeping woman across from him, who was leaning upon her also sleeping husband? Boyfriend? It wasn’t clear. They weren’t from here, judging by iconic New York City tourist shirts stained in (maybe?) hot dog grease. They had been inside much longer than he and Alfred had been; they probably had missed their stop a long while ago.  
 _At least they’re together_ , Arthur thought quietly to himself. Being lost was barely a problem to anyone who was with the company.  
Arthur squeezed Alfred’s hand again. Alfred was his company, though he himself wasn’t sure how long to call it that. Platonic love? Something more? Perhaps it was, blurred beyond recognition.  
But the love was continuously annoying all the same. Why couldn’t it be easier? Something less superficial? Something with deep, with heartstrings attached and tugged into a frantically made puppet show for the rest of the world to know?  
“Alfred,” he said quietly, leaning on Alfred’s shoulder. Alfred shrugged him off instantaneously out of irritation, giving him a warning look before letting go of his hand. To get him to shut up. To let go. To pretend again as if there wasn’t anything between the two of them except the loose armrest with crusting gum stuck to the bottom of it. Stuck to the heart like it had been swallowed.

**Author's Note:**

> _Originally posted May 4, 2018_


End file.
